


Flight

by Coyote_Ugly



Series: OC Drabbles by Coyote [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Childhood Memories, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Just to be safe, Nostalgia, Wings, maybe a little angst idk, possibly inaccurate flight mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-21 06:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coyote_Ugly/pseuds/Coyote_Ugly
Summary: As a fledgling, Raphael had heard many stories.His favorites had always been the ones about flying.





	Flight

 

As a fledgling, Raphael had heard many stories, picked up from older children or from whispers in the hallway or even from his mother, on the rare occasions she had time and attention to spare.

His favorite stories had always been the ones about flying. Even when he was little his wings were massive, each one the size of his own small body if not bigger, and they were far too heavy to lift without help, much less fly with. Until he eventually grew into them he loved to hear about what it was like up in the sky, how it felt to have the wind in your face and what the world looked like from so high up. For centuries he longed to stretch his too-big wings and take to the skies.

That all seemed so far away, now.

As if on queue Raphael's wings fluttered lightly, shaking off the light dusting of snow that had since gathered on them. He was lucky; he bore no feathers, and hence did not have to worry about feathers freezing and weighing him down. Instead, his wings were composed of skin that was stretched between long jointed fingers and connected at the base of his thick tail like the creatures that humans called "bats". They were still massive, still bulky, but his body had finally caught up with them. They were strong from his millennia of practice spent flying and powerful enough to break bones if they hit hard enough (he knew from experience), and large enough to wrap around his body like a blanket and keep him warm.

He sat on an ice cliff that overlooked the ocean, peering down at the water past the edge of the ice. It looked black under the cover of night, even with both moons visible in the sky to shine their light on the turbulent waves. His body shuddered at the thought of what would happen if he were to fall in and made a conscious effort to sit back from the edge. Despite their parents' warnings, many fledglings were still lost to the sea even now. He could only imagine how brave the fishermen who made their living out on the water must be.

After what seemed like an eternity of staring at the ocean Raphael finally moved to stand, stretching his wings out and lashing his tail while he stretched the stiffness out of his limbs. He could never stay in his homelands for long for fear of being discovered, but a little visit now and then never hurt anybody.

His wings drew in close to his sides without fully closing, and Raphael took a deep breath. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and took several steps back, stopping once the cliff's edge was a decent distance away. He suddenly broke into a sprint toward it and jumped much like he was diving, and his wings flew out to catch the air under him. His body was pushed several feet upwards by the wind and then his wings took charge, beating the air with long and powerful strokes to lift him higher. When he was high enough to touch the clouds he allowed himself to glide instead, riding the air currents created by the sea. 

The air was cool with a salty tang to it, much like the air in the far Northern kingdoms where the sea was involved with every aspect of their lives. His half-brother had been seeing a girl there if he remembered correctly, or he had been the last time they'd met. It seemed like an awfully long distance to travel just to visit a girlfriend, but he was in no place to judge. After all, he really shouldn't even be here, as he was supposed to be in exile as well as dead. How you exile a dead man he still doesn't know, but he's long since learned not to question his father's logic

The wind whistled through Raphael's long hair and every change in balance or direction caused it to whip into his face, making him regret not using a ribbon to tie it back, but his regret was short-lived. It felt so good to fly, even if it hadn't been that long since the last time he was airborne. Up here nothing mattered; he was free to do as he pleased until he was forced to touch ground again. He flapped against the wind and rose up above some of the clouds, where he playfully swiped his claws at some of them and came away with nothing but a wet hand. It was even colder up here, and the chill felt good against his skin. Many of the places he'd taken shelter at didn't get nearly as cold as it did in his homeland, so the familiarity was welcoming.

Up here he could see the stars clearly enough to pick out each individual one, and some were so bright tonight that he could even see their colors, little speckles of white and blue and orange. He couldn't help but think of his family, still trapped under his father's cruel talons, and in his deep thinking his wings faltered and jerked him back into reality. His heart was still gripped by the icy claws of fear and anxiety, but he managed to force the feelings back down before they could hinder his flight. 

His thoughts wandered to his mother; she was long dead now, and because she was a queen her bones would be in one of the cells down in the catacombs underneath the royal palace. He would have to pay her a visit sooner or later, so she wouldn't be so lonely. She was not his brother's mother, so he was sure his brother did not travel down to see her, and his father was part of the reason behind death and Raphael was almost certain his father would rather hand over his throne than visit her body.

When Raphael finally touched ground again, he could faintly see the pink glow of the sun on the horizon. He would have to take shelter soon so he wouldn't be caught under the sun's rays and risk burning to death. When night fell again he would make his way toward the border of this kingdom and the next, where the snow and thousands of volcanoes would make good cover for travel. 

After some digging, he managed to carve out a hole underneath a tree just large enough to curl up in and remain hidden, while also being out of the sunlight. Curling around himself, Raphael closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting his tense body relax as he fell victim to the pull of exhaustion. Being a fugitive sure could be draining. 

Soon, the only thing he could hear was the howl of the wind. His wings fluttered, and finally he drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
